


Antithesis

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Collars, Controlling Behavior, Daddykink, Desperation, Fear, Forest Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Ownership, Possessiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrollo tries to run to freedom. Escape isn't quite so simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antithesis

**Author's Note:**

> gift fic for tumblr user Kanyenort!! he gave me some gorgeous earrings and temp tattoos for my chrollo cosplay and i insisted on at least repaying him with a fic. enjoy~

Branches snapped and leaves crunched underfoot as he ran, loud enough to wake the dead. Chrollo glanced down only for a second, but knew there wasn’t anything to be done about the noise. At least not if he wanted to keep up the pace. He couldn’t afford to slow down, not even for a second.

There was no telling how long he had before the proverbial wolves descended.

Rough bark scraped his skin as he tore past a tree, thorns digging in and begging him to wait up. Blood welled to the surface but he paid it no mind, vaulting over a log just as he heard a laugh echo through the woods. Ice flooded his veins and Chrollo choked on the air, forcing himself faster.

He wasn’t that familiar with the grounds and didn’t know exactly where he was going. All he had was the faintest recollection of his journey to the manor through the gates. It wasn’t much but he prayed it would be enough to at least grant him some measure of guidance through the forest. The ground sloped slowly beneath his feet and he followed the descent. There wouldn’t be a second chance for this. Every second counted here.

The laughter sounded again, louder this time. Closer.

Chrollo bit his tongue as he tripped, the adrenaline so poignant he could hardly control his reactions. Faster, he had to get up, go faster—

“You can’t run from me, Chrollo,” came the voice, close enough to taste above the fear and desperation.

Undergrowth stung his cut palms and he pulled himself forward, his eyes struggling to see past the sweat and panic. Trees, bushes, thorns— and then he saw it. With a heave he threw himself to his feet, scrambling messily for traction in the undergrowth.

He managed to duck behind the fallen timber just in time for Silva to enter the clearing. The loudness of Silva’s footfalls was deliberate, no doubt intended to put him more on edge. Silva didn’t care if he heard him coming. He was confident he would win, like he always was. Chrollo wrapped himself around his legs, bit the fabric of his collar to keep muffled the noise of his breathing. The voice came again, low and close, and Chrollo clenched his eyes, willing himself to be as small and silent as he could be.

“You’re mine, Chrollo,” Silva crooned like a lover only scant feet away. “Come out, there’s no point in hiding.”

Everything about his voice was warm, only the slightest sliver of anger lingering on the edges to keep his heart pounding like that of a cornered rabbit. Chrollo had no illusions of what would happen should he be caught. Blood welled in his mouth as he bit harshly at the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t a possession and he wasn’t going to play as one until Silva tired of him. Fingers tightening on the torn fabric of his trousers, he grit his teeth.

Silva kept going, drawing ever nearer. He laughed and it echoed loudly in the clearing. “It’s funny, you trying to outfox me in my own territory. You won’t win, Chrollo.”

Chrollo hated how he said his name, with such lighthearted assurance.

“In fact,” he continued, suddenly so much closer. “You’ve already lost.”

His blood froze in his veins, his heart a lump of iron in his throat. A warm chuckle ruffled his hair, lips pressing against his temple from above. Chrollo forced his head up and took in Silva’s victorious smile, the absolutely predatory sharpness in his expression. His mouth was too dry to form words and he was powerless to resist the hands as they pulled him to his feet and into the waiting embrace.

Licking his lips, he forced himself to speak. “H-how did you find me?” he managed, tugging at the grip on his shoulders. Silva’s hands were iron but he was determined, if not desperate.

Silva laughed again, brushing the brambles from his clothing as he let his hands roam. “You’re mine. You can’t run from me,” he replied as if it were gospel truth, the most obvious thing. “Let’s get you back. I’ve got a lot in mind for you after all.”

He said it with levity but Chrollo swallowed, all too aware of the punishment in store. Throwing up a weak smile, he leaned into Silva a bit in hopes of him loosening his heavy grip to tidy and fuss. It was all too easy to relax into the familiar form and for an instant he almost convinced himself that it would be for the best.

“That’s a good boy,” Silva said as he cupped his cheek and the look in his eyes was enough to bring back the desire for flight. Possession, entitlement, control; Chrollo felt its weight like a crushing blow. Steeling himself, his mind screamed to escape. With only one chance in sight, he waited for an opening.

He found it when Silva leaned down for a kiss. The moment he sensed Silva’s guard lowering, he shoved, throwing himself to the side and away as fast as he could. Trees rushed by on both sides as he darted between them, his sharp turns slowing him down infinitesimally but keeping his movements unpredictable.

Chrollo knew he made it as far as he did only because Silva allowed it. His body met the earth for the second time, this time hard. Kicking as he fell, he struggled against the hands fixed to his leg, his hip. “No!” he cried out, digging his fingers into the loam as he was dragged across the ground. “Let me go! I can’t stay here forever, Silva!”

Silva pulled him in as easily as a child reeling in a kite and turned him to look at him, smile gone. “You can’t even outrun me, Chrollo. How do you intend to survive away from my protection?” he asked, settling himself more fully over Chrollo’s thrashing body. It was effortless to hold him still, hammering his point home like a nail into a coffin.

Biting his lip, Chrollo refused eye contact. His fingers were tangled in Silva’s shirt, to push him away or drag him in he couldn’t tell.

His face was forced forward when Silva wrapped a hand around his throat.

“Just look how easily you stay down. You’re where you belong, Chrollo.”

The hand tightened and just like that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find the air to argue. He clawed at Silva’s grip, thrashing all he could but he knew there was no breaking the hold. Silva’s other hand came up to stroke his cheek, brushing his wild hair from his eyes. Despite everything, his body began to respond to the proximity, the force. He was too well-acquainted with it not to.

Silva noticed like he always did. He hummed knowingly, stroking his thumb along Chrollo’s neck as he eased off the pressure slightly. Waiting until he took in a ragged breath, he rolled his hips into Chrollo’s, laughing as the air was lost just like that.

“You like being like this,” he murmured, bringing their mouths together to steal what was left in his lungs. “There’s no point in lying. I can see it clear as day.”

Chrollo arched into the thrusts and tangled his hands in Silva’s hair to pull him closer. Black spotted his vision and the night deepened around them, sealing them in. His lips tried to form words but there was no oxygen to give them voice. Silva eased off again, letting him try if only to hear him beg. It stung as much as it soothed, how he knew what he wanted to say.

“—ease,” Chrollo gasped, bucking and twisting. “Pl—please, daddy, ‘m sorry.”

He could feel the pleased growl vibrate through Silva’s chest and he sucked in another eager breath when it was given to him.

“How sorry are you?” Silva asked, his voice silk covered steel. “Are you going to be good for me? Stay with me?” He let a hand creep down between them, freeing them both from their confines.

Chrollo tried to cry out but couldn’t find the breath to spare. Instead he nodded his head and pressed himself as eagerly against Silva as he could. All thoughts of escape were lost, the hot tease of skin against skin driving them from his head as simply as Silva had caught him.

There was no air to fuel the sound he made when Silva gripped them together, his hand hard and hot and as firm as his possessive claim to him, body and soul. “Hands above your head, you can touch when I give you permission,” Silva commanded as he stroked them slowly, only letting go when Chrollo dug his fingers into the rotting leaves. He nipped at a pierced ear and smiled against the delicate shell. “And don’t get comfortable, Chrollo. You will be punished later.”

The threat had the opposite effect if anything and Chrollo clenched shut his eyes, keening thin and quiet. “Daddy, more,” he begged, his hands shaking as they tried to keep still. Silva gave him more slack, rewarding him for his compliance. He wrapped his leg around Silva’s hip and pulled him closer and nearly cried when his throat was freed. Oxygen rushed into his lungs and he was euphoric, arching his back when Silva used his other hand to tease and take.

With his breathing restored, he was able to cry out loudly when Silva saw fit to take him into his mouth. His thighs shook, his hips bucked, and even Silva’s piercing gaze couldn’t keep his hands in place. They instead tangled in his hair, chasing the heat that promised so much more than the view outside the gates. Silva growled around him but didn’t pull off, content it seemed to punish him for this and the escape later.

The vibrations, the sting in his throat, the noises of their actions echoing around them; Chrollo couldn’t help but let go. He came with a moan, biting his lip and pulling at Silva’s long hair. Around him, Silva swallowed and licked, demanding everything from him that he hadn’t already given. It drained him of what little energy he still had, the furtive cocktail of endorphins long exhausted. He fell to the forest floor with a groan, the stress of his flight dragging him into the awaiting darkness.

When he awoke, the first thing he felt was the heaviness around his neck.

Cracking open his eyes, he looked blurrily around the familiar room, the familiar texture of Silva’s silken sheets whispering beneath his skin as he moved. The assassin sat across the room, his eyes intent. Chrollo sat up with a grim expression, determined to take whatever came with some measure of dignity.

It was in that moment he heard the clinking and felt the cold weight against his chest, his neck.

Silva grinned. “I hope you’re ready for what comes next, Chrollo.”

His hand trembling slightly, Chrollo reached up to trace his fingers along the heavy chain, tugging at the thick leather collar. Beneath it he could feel the line of bruises painted against the skin of his throat, a mark of ownership all their own. Swallowing, he forced a matching smile across his kiss-swollen lips.

He was safe here, here where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> what a ride right? i may do a part two to this if theres enough interest. check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you liked this. until next time~


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